


Is This Just Fantasy?

by kitkatt0430



Series: Five (Long) Years [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, It's gonna take a while before Hartley's fears begin to fade, M/M, Pay the Piper spoilers, Sort Of, Trauma, waking up alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatt0430/pseuds/kitkatt0430
Summary: Just because Roderick woke up doesn't mean everything's automatically okay.  Trauma doesn't really work like that.
Relationships: Hartley Rathaway/Roderick Smith
Series: Five (Long) Years [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740544
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Is This Just Fantasy?

**Author's Note:**

> Pay the Piper left me with some pretty big feelings about Hartley (and Roderick) which, admittedly, I knew was gonna happen when I sat down to watch the episode. Anyway, here's some of Hartley learning to accept he'd got Roderick back for good. 
> 
> The title comes from Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" opening lines "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

Sometimes Hartley dreamed about getting Roderick back.

There were the detailed dreams where he'd stumble upon a cure, or someone else would stumble across a viable fix, and then Roderick would be back in Hartley's arms. Or maybe it'd just skip straight to that point. Sometimes they'd have sex or drink hot chocolate together and cuddle or just... they'd go on a heist together maybe. Something normal and sweet and perfect.

But those were dreams. And Hartley would always have to wake up to real life.

This dream, though. It had felt so real.

His subconscious had never offered up the idea of the Flash working with some alternate universe version of Harrison named Nash, though. (Twin. Yeah, right. The Flash had been right to cut off Nash's attempt to explain, though; it would've been a waste of precious time in the dream and Hartley hadn't actually cared.) But a dream is all it could have really been, because...

Hartley wasn't a hero, wasn't the sort who went racing in to save the Flash of all people. And good deeds weren't rewarded with miracles like that. It was too perfect. Too neat. Just a dream.

Which explained why Hartley was alone in his bed when his eyes opened that morning. 

Hartley wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up. Focused on drawing his hearing down to manageable levels. And...

There was someone in the kitchen.

It wasn't. It couldn't be. It was just a dream.

Hartley stumbled out of bed, drawn to the sound. 

In reality, there wasn't a kitchen. Hartley's safe house was set up in the top level of an abandoned warehouse that he'd set up like an apartment. The main office became a bedroom, the open plan bull pen that used to house a handful of cubicles re-purposed into a living and dining area for planning his heists and temporary storage for his loot, and the break room in the back became the kitchen with a hot plate, microwave, toaster oven, and a couple other items that meant Hartley wasn't living off take out every night. But Hartley liked to refer to the various rooms like they were part of a normal apartment. Made him less likely to trip up when someone asked where he lived. An apartment conversion sounded a lot better than 'squatting in a warehouse hoping no one notices'.

Not that he ever had anyone over. Or stayed the night at anyone else's place. Five years and counting and Hartley was still too much in love with Roderick to be able to stomach the idea of someone else's touch.

Which, of course, made the whole 'someone was in his kitchen' thing all the more unnerving.

Hartley didn't bother to grab his gloves. His sonic scream would suffice against an intruder this early in the morning. But once Hartley actually looked into the kitchen, he froze up. Blinked a few times, shook his head to clear his vision. But nothing changed what he was seeing.

"Morning, Hart," Roderick greeted, cooking breakfast on the hot plate. "I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed." His smile was so... so real.

Tears started running down Hartley's face. This was too much. This had to be real, didn't it? It wasn't just some fantasy spilling out of his dreams into reality... 

"Hartley, sweetheart..." hastily Roderick turned off the hot plate and then hurried to Hartley's side. "Hey, hey, I'm here," he promised, wrapping his arms around Hartley's shoulders. The other's man's touch was firm and grounding and physically real.

No dream - no hallucination - could mimic this sort of detail.

Hartley began to sob softly against Roderick's chest. "You weren't there and I thought it wasn't... it was my fault and I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Roderick swayed them back and forth. "What are you apologizing for, love? You haven't done anything wrong. It's gonna be okay now. I'm here, bae, I'm here..."

"It was my fault," Hartley insisted. "You were gone so long and it was my fault. I put you in danger, I lost you..."

"I panicked and deviated from the plan," Roderick said quietly, soothingly petting Hartley's hair, fingers dragging along the back of his neck. "The Flash threw the electricity. Pretty sure there's enough blame to go around. I may not be able to stop you from blaming yourself, but I will tell you this over and over again. As many times as you need to hear it." Roderick pulled back in order to look Hartley square in the eyes. "I love you and I forgive you. This is real."

"I love you too," Hartley responded shakily.

"So, I've just learned a very important lesson for the day," Roderick said, a watery smile on his own face. "Waking up alone freaked you out, didn't it?"

Hartley nodded mutely.

"From now on, if I wake up first then I wake you up too. So that the first thing you see is that I'm really here with you. That sound good?" Roderick pecked Hartley on the lips when he nodded again.

"I think breakfast is burning," Hartley said after a moment.

"Ah shit," Roderick pulled away and rushed back to the hot plate. Though he'd turned it off, he'd left the skillet on the plate and... sure enough, breakfast was burned.

"Shower and then donuts?" Hartley asked. "There's a little shop not far from here that makes excellent apple fritters and bear claws."

"I'm feeling so gay for bear claws right now," Roderick teased, an awful joke that made Hartley's face just light right up.

He'd missed everything about Roderick. The sound of his voice, the touch of skin, the way it felt to make love to him, the thrill of pulling a heist with his partner... but most of all? These moments of easy domesticity they shared.

"I love you," Hartley repeated, helplessly smitten all over again. "Even if your jokes still need work."

"You love my bad puns," Roderick teased, sweeping Hartley into another kiss.


End file.
